I’ve always been drawn to nature-based spirituality for a simple reason: the seasons change whether we acknowledge them or not. The land rests, blooms, withers, and returns again, and there is something deeply grounding in that rhythm. In Sylvaeren, time is not measured only in days and years, but in change, and the seasonal festivals reflect how its people listen to the world around them.

As autumn deepens and Samhain draws near, the veil between worlds grows thin and memories feel close enough to touch. In my world of Sylvaeren, this sacred night is called Soultide—a festival where souls return to the starlight and the living send leaf-lanterns drifting across the water—a quiet reminder that no soul is ever truly lost, and no love ever forgotten.